The Third One
by firegirl56
Summary: Sam and Caine were not the only ones. There was another. The final piece to their puzzle. But they don't know it. They don't know her. But she knows them.  And another, who she finds herself fatefully intertwined with...but is he really hers?
1. Chapter 1

I looked up at the night sky, thinking. The stream below me gurgled quietly and I could hear the crickets chirping. Farther off, closer to the desert, a lone coyote howl rose up. The others had split today, some going with the self-appointed king, some with the boy who just wanted this to end. But not me. I stayed alone, just as I had since the beginning. I was the neutral third party, but no one knew me. No one ever even considered my existence.

I knew them both, those two boys, Sam and Caine, so well it even surprised me. They didn't know me or know I knew them, but I did. It was best that they didn't know me, though. The lower hungry one would see me as a threat and destroy me, resulting in his destruction. Even if he joined his brother to take me down, I know the other could never kill me. No matter how much he hated me he could not, once he knew the truth.

I laughed. I had complete and utter control over them and their reactions, just because of who I was. They were far too predictable. I was surprised no one had been able to figure them out before me. But my planning, and my watching, and my strategy, and my powers had paid off.

They had no idea I had ever existed, and I knew their every thought and reaction and flaw. It was their blindness, their preoccupation, their failure to dream that would lead to their downfall. They believed they were two parts of a whole, two fraternal twins, when really they were two thirds of the puzzle. Yes, my cleverness had paid off, giving me the upper hand, but it also helped that I was their sister.

I looked down at the six scars that ran across the back of my hand. It was a reminder of my powers. My reading. Six bars. Yes, I was more powerful than Caine and Sam both. It was funny, really, that the sum of our powers, four plus four plus six, came out to fourteen, the last year of the FAYZ, if you chose to disappear. That may have had some significance, or it may not have. In the FAYZ, nothing was certain. Everything was constantly changing.

I thought back to when this all began, a few months ago. I had been outside the public school, and suddenly the atmosphere changed. A feeling of dread, uneasiness (or was it anticipation) had crept over her, settling over everything. Car alarms sounded in the distance. Intuition told her that all the adults were gone. I had to find him. Sam. Find him and discover what this was bringing to him. I walked into the school, acting like I was scared and confused like the rest of them, and from there I began to use my power to draw from the atmosphere.

This was my power. I took power from my surroundings and used them to my advantage. If I was near water, it would rise up, surrounding me, keeping me safe. Fire could be manipulated with my breath, blowing this way and that as I exhaled. It worked with intangible things too; I was currently drawing from the overwhelming emotions in the room and creating a mask for myself. I would not stand out. I would just be one more fearful child. No one, not even Sam or that intelligent girl he always seemed to stare at, would suspect a thing.

Sam looked tired. The smart girl looked contemplative. That strange boy who was a friend of Sam's looked terrified, anxious, and tearful. I almost laughed. He was such the opposite of me, him so neurotic and I so calm.

This new development would be an opportunity. I did not want to rule over anything, as did my other egomaniacal brother. I did not want to play hero, like Sam. I wanted to watch the horror show that would soon unfold from this. I would find a place where I could see but not be seen, and let the fun begin.

I had made myself several things over time. I christened herself Sarah, diagnosed myself as severely sadistic, and marked myself as a mutant, a freak of nature, a freak no one else spoke of or cared about. I had seen my mutant brothers. Sam attacked his stepfather, and Caine practiced his telekinesis with that attractive girl he went to school with. I found more sympathy with Caine, both of us the abandoned ones, the unloved ones. But he had found a family, I had been tossed to the streets, as if my mother could have known I was the worst, the one to be sacrificed. But I had been given the most power, as if to shield myself from the anger and fights the boys were constantly getting themselves into.

I was sadistic, anyone who had ever known me could tell. I hunted for food now, but even before that I hunted, just to see the animals' blood everywhere, the lights in their eyes going out, twitching and convulsing as I tortured them to death. I still took my time when I killed things, but less now because I had to make the meat count, or I would go hungry. I was incapable of most emotions. I felt hate, and a sick sort of pleasure, but not happiness, not sadness, and certainly not love. It was comical to think of me ever falling in love with someone. It was impossible. How completely wrong I was.


	2. Chapter 2

**Yellow everybody! **

**This is my first fanfic so I didn't know how to do the little note things in the beginning for the first chapter. Turns out you just put them IN the chapter. I think…**

**But anyway…**

**I just want to thank the people who reviewed and/or added me to their favorites, as it made me feel like this story might actually have a chance at being good. :) Unfortunately, I was trying to update but really didn't feel like going through the books to match details so it might be slightly inaccurate and badly written, but OH WELL. This is just a little sub-plot between Sarah and Diana, so it's not that important. But you should still read it. **

**And even though Sarah's supposedly sadistic I didn't really know how to make her scary without being over the top. So I settled with the small animals/bloodthirsty thing. Plus, I'm saving the real psychotics for everyone's favorite, DRAKE MERWIN! Yes that's right if you review in the next 24 hours I might even put him in chapter 3! But until then, he'll probably take the stage in chapter 4. **

**Well now I'm beginning to get off topic, so read the story and find out for yourself! :D**

I remembered that night I had met her. Oh, even in her own home she was terrified. But it was good. I needed the fear on my side to stop Caine from hearing of the visit. He would have wrecked all my plans and I would have had to kill people. Not that I would have minded. I would have reveled in it, the chance to spill so much human blood.

But I had crept there in the dead of night, after a few days into the paradise of the FAYZ. Caine had stepped—no, strutted—into Sam's domain, though Sam didn't seem to have a problem with it at the moment. I knew he would though, at some point. Caine would try to get him out of the way. One would die eventually. I had never suspected they would both die, but neither on the outside. How strange Fate is.

The girl, Diana, I believed her name was, had picked out a modest but well cared for house near the center of town. My brother, of course, chose the biggest mansion he could find, but that's beside the point. Diana had been fast asleep when I crept through an open window in the kitchen. I grabbed a knife, and walked down the hall. I laid a hand to the doorknob and twisted. It was locked. I took a deep breath. This had to be a more focused use of my power, and I had to be silent. I imagined the gears turning to meet my needs, but silently. Suddenly I heard the faintest of clicks as that really happened, and I pushed the door open slowly, silently making my way into the room. I walked to the side of her bed, held the knife to her neck, and smiled at the adrenaline rush. No, I thought. I could not kill her. She was necessary to my plan.

I drew together all the times I had heard Caine speak, and put on my best impression. "Oh, Diana, my love, wake up." Her eyes flew open and she almost bolted up before noticing the knife at her neck. Still, a drop of blood slid down her skin, glistening in the faint moonlight. It was all I could do to stop myself from slicing her open. Diana's eyes turned to me, and settled into a smirk, like she was bored. I had seen her do this before to almost everyone she met.

"Well, aren't you cute," she said with a sneer, "a little freak with parrot powers. And I'd like to see you try to kill me. You don't have the guts." That was all I needed. I loosened my self-control for a moment and smiled as the knife slid deeper into her neck. If I kept it up she would be dead in almost two minutes. If I was kind enough to let her die mercifully.

"Oh yes," I said with laugh, "I do. I know you, Diana Ladris. And I know you rely on my brother for help, but he isn't here now, and even if he was, I could still destroy him." I let that sink in. The smirk left her face, but she didn't look particularly afraid. "Now, you are going to sit up slowly and stand completely still. I know you can read my power. You are going to tell me, and tell me the truth, and believe me, I will know whether it's true. Then I am going to leave, and no one will know about this. I have been watching everyone here for months now, and if I find that my brothers hear even a word of this, I will kidnap you and you will die a long and painful death at my hands." I paused, thinking. "Or I can give you over to Drake in a place where no one would ever look to find you."

Diana finally began to fear, I could feel the emotions in the air. This time, though, I needed no mask. My usual sick, detached confidence was best in this scenario. "Y-you wouldn't dare," she said, not even attempting to sound aloof.

"Oh yes, I would," I reassured her, a sick grin spreading across my face. "I have nothing personal against you, Diana, just my own thirst for blood." I traced the knife lightly along her neck for the added effect. "But Drake? Well, you and I both know the sadistic fixation he has for you, and he would take even longer and cause you even more pain than if I did it. So I believe you are agreeing to my terms?"

Diana looked at me, then at the knife, then out the window, as if Caine might be there to save her. "Fine," she surrendered, "But I have a question." I traced the knife along her neck, feeling the softness under the blade tip. Oh, how I wanted to sink it into her neck, but I had to restrain myself. "Before, you said 'my brother'." She continued. "Were you just saying that to intimidate me, or are you actually related to him?" I laughed in response to this.

"Oh, Diana," I said, in a perfect imitation of Caine, "Don't you see the family resemblance?" She swallowed and read my power as I held out my hand. She gasped. "What? What is it?" I asked hungrily.

"Six," she said, shaking her head and staring at me. "Six bars." I laughed again, and took the knife from her neck, etching six lines on the back of my hand. Diana watched, horrified. I looked up at her and smiled once more.

"Now, if I will so easily do that to myself, imagine what I could do to you without blinking an eye. Do yourself a favor and don't tell Caine." And with that I was gone, flying across the night, then using my power to move air across my limbs, allowing me to really fly.

So she knew, later on, when they discovered Sam's birth certificate, that he and Caine were not just twins, but triplets. But she remained true to her word and never dropped a hint of my existence to either of them.

The second time had been different, but I was out of my element, just because of her openness, her fear, something that I had not known Diana to possess. It was the day after the battle, a few months after the night where she read my power levels, and she was walking in the woods. I heard her from far off, and I could see she was distraught. So many emotions rolled off of her: fear, despair, confusion, anger, love, regret, indecision. Then I felt something else. Other, half formed emotions harder to read. They were unconscious and barely alive, but came from a tiny, wisp of a soul. Then I realized it with almost a laugh. It was Caine. It was his child, it had to be.

I jumped off the tree branch I had been perched in a moment before and landed silently at her feet. "Does Caine know?" I asked, and her eyes widened in recognition of my face.

"No, no," she said quickly, taking a step back, "I never told him about you, I swear!" I smiled at her fear for her life. Or maybe it was maternal instincts, protecting the unborn child.

"Oh, don't worry," I said, "I told you, I've been watching everyone. I would have known and you'd be long dead had you told. What I meant was, does he know about you?" Diana looked at me for a long moment before looking at the ground. "He doesn't, does he?"

Diana looked back at me and nodded. "How can you tell?" she asked quietly. I told her how my power worked, how I could make masks of things, sounds, and feelings. She nodded and began to cry. I just stood there, watching her. I didn't know what to do. It was uncomfortable, not sadness or pity; I didn't feel those emotions, but just not knowing what to do. And the sound was getting on my nerves. After a few minutes she stopped, and explained her problem to me.

Caine was the father, yes, but she could hardly tell him that, and I understood what she meant. Caine had never seemed to come across as the loving parent type. She thought Sam might accept her, but not the others who went with him, since the town was planning to split up. And she didn't want Caine finding out she was pregnant after the split and think that the child was Sam's. Then he might start an entire war to get her back, and she didn't want that. Either way, the truth was going to come out at some point.

"Your way forward is clear, then," I said. She looked surprised. You can't go with Caine, or Sam, so you have to be independent like me." She looked disbelieving, but pleased.

"You'd let me stay with you?" she asked, and I realized she hadn't understood what I meant.

"No! I've already spoken to you one too many times, but since I suppose I'll be an aunt, I could build you a sort of lean to and bring food." The opportunity to kill more animals. Just what I wanted. Diana said she'd think about it and left. She must have decided not to trust me anywhere near her child, so she ended up following Sam. Whatever that led to, you could be sure that I would stay out of it.

I wondered what Diana must have felt. She had let Caine become a weakness to her. He had hurt her with his selfishness, and now she was stuck with a baby in the FAYZ. Watching her for months had made me think she was strong, or at least daring. How could she have fallen prey to an emotion? I swore to myself that that would never happen to me.

That was before I met him.


	3. The Hunter and The Sadist

**Hi everyone! Sorry I didn't update, I felt lazy and was stuck on the first sentence until this morning. But now Chapter 3 is written, and I learned I can also add CHAPTER TITLES! *gasps* I know, it's so incredibly amazing! :D**

**Well, I'd like to thank the ONE person who reviewed (Jamie Wilson) and I'd like to send Drake after those of you who haven't. Please, please, please review! Even if you want to tell me how much you hate this story and how it's so inaccurate and lame, just TELL ME!**

**So yeah that's pretty much it. I hope you like Chapter 3! :)**

In order to know how I came to stay in this forest, so successful while others were starving; you must know the story of the FAYZ from my point of view.

After the wall went up and the adults disappeared, I knew what was happening. I didn't know what exactly, but I could tell it was sinister, mysterious, and dangerous. I was very excited. I decided I had to keep up my surveillance of Sam, Caine, and their allies, but also had to set up a base for myself. I knew that very soon there would be no food left. I looked for a spot in the nearby woods that was both well concealed and convenient, allowing me to see but not be seen. I found it a few hours later, a grove of trees near a stream. A small nook in the roots was perfect for holding things needed quickly, and the large upper branches of an old oak looked able to house a few planks and boards that could serve as my home.

I went back into town and ripped chinks of wood off siding, out of the beds of pickup trucks, and anywhere else that I could find it. I also raided the hardware store, still smoky after the fire, and grabbed some nails, hammers, and ropes to help me piece together my dwelling. By that night, I had managed to put down the floor, mismatched but functional, about 36 square feet in size. I slept on the bare wood the first night, cool but not cold, for not a single breeze took my warmth from me.

The next day I finished the walls and the ceiling, then broke into a few houses back in Perdido Beach to acquire a few things. First were blankets and cloth, then bandages, then a few pairs of shoes. At the next house I found a set of high quality knives in the kitchen, along with a gun in the closet. Ammunition was limited, so I promised myself the gun was for emergencies only. In addition, the gun would kill my prey in one shot. That was too easy, too painless. The knives, though, I was pleased with. At the next house I found a backpack for keeping things on the go, a small cooler, and a large Sterilite drawer cart to keep clothes in.

I loaded all my things in the backpack and carried the cart. No one gave me a passing glance, as they were all too busy with their own thefts to notice me. The walk back across town was simple, and before I knew it I was back in the forest, throwing things up into the tree house. I climbed up the rope up to the house and arranged things. I pushed the set of drawers into one corner, hung the backpack on a knob of tree branch right by my head, and spread the blankets out on one side of the house. I looked back and surveyed my work. Not bad. My stomach rumbled, and I grinned. Time to go hunting.

I caught a rabbit soon afterwards and watched it writhe in my grip, eyes wild. I laughed, almost giddy. Its simple animal emotions conveyed one thing to me: fear. No not fear, more than fear. It was absolute terror. I slashed its back, right along the spine. It screamed, something that may have given others nightmares, but brought me laughter. I looked it right in the eye and said: "Well, because I'm so merciful, you will die now." I stabbed in the chest with one of my new knives and it fell silent. I decided it was enough for today and headed back to my new forest home. I skinned and gutted the animal, then fashioned a sort of spit to roast it on. I set up a fire and thought how my brother's power might be helpful right about now, cooking this rabbit. I cooked it and feasted on rabbit meat that night, then fell asleep underneath some blankets, as content as could be.

The next morning I woke early and looked around my new home. It was fine. But now I needed to think about other, more practical things. Food was my biggest concern. Meat was no problem. Fish were in the stream, game was in the woods, et cetera. But produce? Berries and nuts I might be able to find, but things like lettuce apples wouldn't be as easy. I decide a trip to the grocery store was necessary.

Over the next few days I stockpiled things like matches, fruits, and manmade foods. A few jars of peanut butter, a box of Oreos—all these went into a drawer in the plastic chest. Seeds of whatever I ate were planted in mid sunlight near the stream. Soon I had sprouts of fruit bearing trees. It would take years for them to be fully grown, but maybe just a few months to yield fruit. I even planted a grapevine around the massive trunk of my house tree, snacking on the sweet little fruits whenever I needed a quick bite to eat. Within a week, I was self-sufficient: food, water, and shelter weren't issues. And as long as I kept the embers in the fire pit going, I could draw on its energy and not waste precious matches. I was content. And I stayed like that, hunting, sleeping, or spying to pass the time. No one discovered me, and I was fine.

There were few people in the FAYZ I admired, or even respected. Not Sam, for he didn't have the guts to kill anyone out of pure anger, just if the circumstances demanded it. Not Caine, because he was just a foolish boy with a large ego. Surprisingly enough, it was Hunter. We didn't often meet while hunting, but he was good company when we did. He knew the ways of the forest, didn't scare off prey, and didn't talk. It was good to be near a person who wasn't constantly yammering on and on while others pretended to care. He was a person who enjoyed silence, just like me. When we did speak, it was often about Old Lion, the nuisance of a beast who stole meat. The one thing didn't understand about him was his odd compassion for the kids back in town. They were the ones who drove him into exile in the first place, so why did he care so much about whether they got their meat?

I had never understood compassion. But I suppose he was the closest thing I had to a friend. I felt nothing like sadness when I heard the news of his death, but I was disappointed that he wouldn't be able to hunt with me anymore.

The only other people who I had met in the forest were Diana, that one time, and not three days later, the boy who changed my life forever.


	4. Meeting Her Match

**HIYA! So I was dying to write the next chapter and introduce the next main character who is a bad guy but ends up not being so bad once you get to know him! And his other half is featured in this chapter also, although not as much as in the next chapter or two where she screws up EVERYTHING (and when I say everything, I mean, like, **_**everything**_**)…but I'm going to bait you and not tell you what she does or what she screws up! So there! HA!**

**That was a little weird…anyway…**

**I'm going to just thank all the people who have reviewed any chapter in this story because I completely understand feeling lazy, reviewing once, and just reading the next chapter without reviewing it. Anyway, whoever reviewed, know that I really appreciate it! Kudos go to *drumroll*: Jamie Wilson, FrostyShadows, magenta raspberry, and theCheesePigeon! :)**

In the middle of the night, I heard a branch snap somewhere nearby. Even this small noise woke me. I silently sat up in the darkness and pulled my favorite knife close. I crept to the edge of my tree house and saw a pudgy girl panting. The only light came from the moon and the dying embers of the fire pit, so I could barely see anything else. When I reached out to sense her emotions, I was confused. She had a few of her own emotions, but they had been tainted. Contaminated by something else, something that was huge and…not exactly human. "No…the demon…he…he's returning…" She staggered beyond where I could see, and I heard more crashes of foliage and then a twisting, slithering, growing sound, like flesh bending itself to reform.

A few minutes later, a boy walked into the clearing. He looked about my age, but taller, with sandy hair and a crooked, evil smile on his face. He looked as if he'd been to hell and back again, clothes in bloody tatters, but he was perfectly fine. Dirty and mud splattered, but unharmed. In one hand, he held a shotgun, and in the other a long, fleshy red rope, like a giant Twizzler. No…it wasn't a rope. At his shoulder where his arm should have been, was just a fleshy, blood red, moving, tentacle. It slashed the air, restless, and he grinned in sheer joy. It was a living whip. A perfect, biological, living weapon.

He saw the campfire, but I wasn't worried, no one ever thought to look up. Suddenly, this boy did, head turning up, dappling the starlight across his perfect face. His red arm snaked, ready for a kill, but the boy chose the faster method. With a wicked grin, he lifted the shotgun and took aim at me. I realized what was happening and was on him like a cat, clawing and stabbing like there was no tomorrow. My jump had caught him off guard, and he stumbled. I landed on his chest and raked my knife down, ripping a wound from his shoulder blade to his hip, then retracing it deeper into him. I stopped. There was no blood. No. Blood. I had gutted him, with no result. He was still smiling, still laughing. I couldn't stand it. I was like a wild animal, biting and scratching, but he still didn't react. Why wouldn't he hurt? Why wouldn't he? Why?

Suddenly I was on my back, him leaning over me, skin already stretching and repairing itself. "I can't be killed," he said with that shark's grin. "But unfortunately, you can!" He took my knife and held it up to my throat, deciding the best way to slit it. Stabbed with my own blade, I thought, what a way to die.

"Don't kill me," I said forcefully, sounding much more confident than I felt.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't," he snarled, but the knife hovered in midair, and I could see his resolve beginning to falter.

"Because I could be of use to you," I said simply. "Let me up, and I'll show you my power and my home." I lay there silently, hoping he would buy it. I tried to guess my chances of survival. They were probably one in a million. But he surprised me. With an incoherent grunt, he gave me a hand and helped me stand. I took it, not that I needed it, but he was making an effort to be nice after trying to kill me. Our faces were mere inches apart for a second, and I could swear he almost blushed.

"My name's Drake," he said after a second, and then I realized he was. How I hadn't recognized him before was a mystery to me. Maybe I was so focused on the way his eyes drew me in, like a moth drawn to a lamp. I mentally slapped myself. What had I been thinking! It had to be part of his power, making me feel warm inside then slicing me with that whip of icy flesh.

"Sarah," I responded, and then smiled. I led him around my tree house. When I opened the drawer of knives and the gun, he caressed the handles with a soft touch, like they were the most precious things in the world to him.

I smiled to myself. It looked like I had found my new hunting companion. Sadistic, cold, but practical—yes, I thought, he would do just fine.


	5. Is This Love?

**Yellow! :D So I uploaded chapter 4 this morning and now I just slaved away to write chapter 5 so you better be grateful! Just kidding! But really I did work hard so if you think it's really bad just tell me nicely please! :( So, I eventually planned on it being longer but then I got lazy. So please forgive me.**

**Anyway, the first three chapters were basically Sarah having these flashbacks of times earlier in the FAYZ, and Chapter 4 was a lot shorter, unfortunately (but this is longer, yay!) and that was basically just her meeting Drake, which was actual action. Fast forward a week and that brings you here.**

**So in between chapter 4 and 5 they became and started hunting together, and they make a really awesome, sadistic, and amazing team, if I do say so myself. ;)**

**Well, I'm probably boring you now, so I'll let you read this. Now, read and REVIEW! :D**

"Can I see your hand?" I asked Drake. He looked at me strangely; then held it out.

"Whatever, but flirting tricks don't work on me, in case you were thinking along those lines." I almost spit out the water I had been drinking.

"Flirting? Who said anything about flirting?" I asked incredulously. What was he thinking?

"Well, you know, like, when the girl asks to see the guy's hand and then she just holds it and it's supposed to be all happy and cute? That lame romance movie stuff?" Drake replied sheepishly. Now he looked embarrassed. I rolled my eyes.

"No, you idiot, not that hand, the whip." He raised his eyebrows. Reluctantly he stretched it out to span the distance between us as we sat at the campfire. I took it in my hands and examined it closely. It was heavier than you would expect, but nimble and fast. It never really stopped moving. I could feel it slithering and twisting in my hands. "Perfect," I breathed, barely audible, but Drake heard.

"What? I didn't quite catch that," he said, pulling back the tentacle with a grin. He looked weird; like he was afraid I'd insult it.

"I said, 'Perfect'. It's the perfect weapon. Fast, deadly, and powerful. Can it constrict its victims as well as whipping them?" I met his eyes, storm gray, shadowy, mysterious. I felt myself falling into their trap again and tensed suddenly. It was a trick. He was sadistic like I was, perhaps even more so. If I had been so uncaring when Hunter, my first and only friend had died, imagine what this psychopath would do to me without a moment's hesitation.

"Well, just know I could kill you in seconds, if need be. But I prefer to take my time with people. It makes the job more…worthwhile. I could have you screaming on the forest floor in a millisecond if I had to." He finished with another wicked shark grin.

"Can you?" I asked, somewhat eagerly, "just one lash. I want to know how it feels." Drake looked more than happy to, and fast as lightning I heard a whistle and a crack and felt my back exploding into bloody lines of pain. My knees buckled, and I might've screamed, but within seconds, lying on the ground, I burst into a crazed frenzy of laughter. I couldn't stop. It felt so good, the pain, the blood I felt dripping down my back!

"That felt so, so good!" I yelled into the night sky, then rolled back over and sat again on the ground, to see Drake staring at me.

Drake looked confused. No, more surprised, like he was amazed anyone could have such an interest in killing and pain. "Are you a sadist?" He asked. If we were any other two people, this might have been a joke, after laughing at someone falling down stairs. But Drake was dead serious. He was studying me as if in a new light, as almost an equal. I could tell from his emotions a sense of…not respect, he didn't care, but…interest? Friendship? Something else? I couldn't tell. He was also clouded with that strange presence, but not so much as the other girl from before. Drake was independent, he had his own ideas and plans on who to kill, who to whip within an inch of death, but not showing mercy.

That was the difference between us. He was relentless. He would whip and strangle and shoot and stab until you were in a million little pieces, whereas I would soon get bored of the same person's screams of agony and move onto a new victim, fresh prey. Drake was a focused, deadly weapon; I was just raw, unbalanced torture. "Yes," I replied, then immediately reached for his emotions to know his reaction. He had expected it, he had seen me hunt these past days, how long I took to kill the animals, but there was another thing. A flicker of an indescribable emotion ripped through his consciousness, before it was gone again.

Gone.

He was cold, blank, unfeeling. I resisted the urge to scream. Why wouldn't he feel? It was like not only was he immune to pain, but he was above thinking and feeling, too. Suddenly I questioned myself. Why did I care so much about this? Why did I care so much about him, about what he thought of me? Why? Why? What was wrong with me? Why was he making me so weak inside, guts turned to Jell-O, like I'd been internally fried by Hunter?

No. No, that couldn't be it. Oh, God, please no. No no no no no. I could feel panic rising from the pit of my stomach. Why? Why could this boy hold me at gunpoint or have a knife at my neck and I felt only adrenaline and fighting instincts, but yet just sit a foot away from me by the fire and send chills down my spine?

I was going to throw up

I was going to faint

I was going to die

How could I feel this way about Drake, of all people?

"Sarah," I could hear him saying, but that made it worse. His voice was resonating in my ears. Sarah. Sarah. Sarah. "Sarah, are you all right?" Drake Merwin. Are you all right. As if he was concerned for my well-being.

"I-I'm fine," I said quickly, instantly regretting my stutter. It made me sound weak. I shook my head, trying to clear it, to no avail. I looked at him, then looked away. I saw my knuckles, white as bone, clenching the stick I had intended to feed to the fire. My palm burned, and when I turned it over I saw my hand was full of splinters.

"Here, I'll get something for that," Drake said, jumping up and swinging to the tree house. I heard him rummaging around in the drawer for food and medicine, and soon after he was coming back down with a pair of tweezers. I had stolen them months before from the hardware store. They were more like pliers, but they did their job.

Drake sat sown next to me, closer than before, our legs almost touching. He took my hand in his and for a second I felt frozen in place. Then I was hit with a wave of disgust. What was wrong with me? He painstakingly took out every splinter and put the tweezers/pliers down. He didn't move away.

"I have to go," I said, standing up quickly. "Hunting. I need some fresh air." Drake stood up too.

"Right," he said awkwardly. Had he guessed the turmoil taking place right inside my head? I didn't bother to search his emotions to find out. I fled, and ran and ran and ran, putting as much distance between us as possible. I needed to think. After ten minutes of hard running I collapsed into a heap of pitiful flesh at the base of a cedar and cried. Me. Sarah. The spy, the sadist, the invisible one, who no one ever thought existed. But I was a hypocrite. I never suspected I was vulnerable in any way. I was confident, detached, coldhearted. But I had been blind to the fact that I really could love. And once I considered the possibility, there was no denying it.

I was in love with Drake Merwin.

I sobbed and gasped and cried and got mucus in my hair and dirt all over my face. I was a wreck. I turned and looked up at the moon and stars. I felt myself giving up, giving in. One final question surfaced in my mind, and I whispered it out to the dark night.

"Is this love?"


	6. A Happy Ending For Now

**I think this is my longest chapter yet. Woo-hoo! :D The next chapter will probably be short; maybe Drake's POV, and then the real trouble will begin. :) This story is starting to get longer than I thought! :)**

When I finally woke up, I looked worse than when I had passed out. My nose was stuffy and crusty from the dried snot left there after crying so much. Crying. I disgusted myself. Why on earth had I, of all people, been crying? I sat up and was confused to find myself back in my tree house. I remembered passing out in the middle of the forest, far from here. I looked down at myself, covered in dirt and mud and the salty remains of tear tracks on my skin. I was wondering what on earth had happened until I stuck my head out and saw Drake sleeping at the base of my tree.

Drake Merwin.

The reason I had fled and cried and passed out.

He must've come after me and carried me back here. God, I must've been out like a light to have slept through all that. I guessed my mind had been a bit overstimulated and did really need to rest, but I had to be more alert next time. I couldn't have Drake thinking he had the upper hand. Then it hit me. If what I felt last night was real, then he did have the upper hand. More like the upper whip. I silently climbed from my house and crept around him. His whip twitched, but he slept. I walked a few minutes to where the stream was deeper and stripped down. Then I took a deep breath and jumped into the stream.

Every hair stood on end as I sank down. The icy water washed over me, jabbing me with needles of cold, and then numbing me. I kicked powerfully and rose to the surface. I tossed back my wet hair, teeth chattering, hands shaking so badly I might have died of hypothermia if I were normal.

But I was a long, long way from normal. Lucky me.

I scrubbed the dirt and grime from my skin, trying to clean myself as completely as possible. After that I just swam a while, trying to clear my head of all the swirling confusion centered on the sadist sleeping by the base of my tree every night, like he was guarding me. Well, that at least brought reasonable thoughts to my head. I didn't need anyone guarding me, especially not Drake. He should know that better than anyone. He had to concede that if not for his regeneration he would be dead by know at my hands from that first night we met.

From there, I swam in circles and listed all the reasons that meant I couldn't love Drake Merwin. I didn't really believe any of them. Suddenly it hit me. As much as I hate to admit it sometimes, I may be a bloodthirsty sadist, but I'm still just a teenage girl. My brain accepted this with great enthusiasm in this case. Teenage girls got crushes on the guys around them. And it wasn't like I had an endless sea of boys of which to like. Drake was the only one, so it was only natural I feel like this. I managed to put down all my feelings as just a reaction, a chance event, something that was bound to happen with someone and it just happened to be him. I looked down at the six scars on the back of my hand. That was who I was. I was Sarah. I didn't want Drake, I didn't need Drake, I, in no way, shape, or form, loved Drake.

With a final splash, I climbed out of the stream and shook off the excess moisture like a dog. Then I redressed and breathed in deeply. Trees and water: that was what I smelled, my perfect forest world. With all my thoughts sorted out, I trekked back to the tree house.

I looked at the fire and gasped. Every thought I had worked so hard to believe crumbled to dust. Sitting by the fire was Drake, simply skinning a fox. He heard me approach and looked up to meet my eyes, and I couldn't breathe. He was the most gorgeous boy I had ever met.

A part of my mind was screaming no no no, a part was hanging on to what I had believed not ten minutes ago: just a teenage girl's reaction to a boy, another part was silent, completely dumbfounded, and another, unforgiven part was looking at him and saying yes yes yes. He stood up and stepped towards me.

"Sarah! Where were you? I thought you'd run away again." He was a good actor, I gave him that, as if he really cared about where I was. He probably wanted me gone, so he could have my base and my weapons.

"I went for a swim," I said carefully, in a measured tone, not wanting him to know how much chaos he was creating inside me.

"Oh," he said, "After last night…well, you're a good hunter, and you're good at sneaking up on prey. I need you for at least half my daily calorie intake." Good, I thought, that's the truth and he knows it. He admitted it. He owes me big time for his food. Then again, Drake would say letting me live and keep my weapons was reward enough.

Suddenly I was aware of his closeness; Drake was standing right there, whip hand and all, looking at me, and me looking at him, and then I knew it. Even for crazy sadists like us, those happy romance movie rules applied to us.

His whip hand reached up and touched my cheek gently, and I could see him leaning in towards me. Drake's lips were an inch from mine when he stepped back and glared at something I couldn't see. He muttered something about a pig and turned to me.

"Sarah, I, um, have to go somewhere, I'll be back in an hour or two, so, um," He looked at me awkwardly, and I tried to hide my blushing. "Bye." He took off running into the forest, leaving me all alone. I picked up the fox he had been skinning and tried to diligently finish the job, but I couldn't. My thoughts were swirling again, and now I had to make sense of them.

I finished butchering the fox and trying to keep thoughts from crossing my mind. About an hour or two later I was just finishing up and Drake was getting back from his escapade from before. I tried not to look at him. I finally put the fox over the fire and twisted the flames to my advantage, getting a fire going. I set apart the entrails to use in my traps and the fur to my ever growing mound of pelts that I could sell in town for quite a large sum, if I wanted. But I had to keep an extra eye out now. Perdido beach was no longer the disorganized democracy it was. I was certain my dear brother king would have a strict regulation on trade, and a mysterious new girl popping up with an armload of animal furs might seem suspicious, and the last thing I needed was Caine finding out about me. So in the end, I got stuck with the pile of furs that were basically useless to me.

Drake cleared his throat. I looked up. He seemed on edge, almost nervous. The great Drake Merwin felt nervous. I didn't even need to sense his emotions to know that; it was written all over his face. "Sarah." He began, and I tried to steel myself. My heart was beating faster, my mind was screaming. "Look," he said, "I know this has been a little…weird, for the both of us." A shark grin twisted his features into a cold smirk. "I want one thing to be clear as day between us." I expected him to say something drake-like as in, 'I could kill you anytime', 'you realize you are at my utter mercy', 'my whip could slice you to bits in minutes', et cetera. But that guess was way off. He stepped very close to me and we looked into each other's eyes.

"I love you." Drake said, and he leaned towards me and kissed me, his whip hand wrapping around my waist and his regular hand held my face. I registered my hands moving as well, but didn't remember giving the command. My arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to me. We kissed for a while, then I broke away, saying we should go hunt. Drake was staring at me like I was unreal. I felt dazed the same way. He said he would go check the traps; that was probably all we would need for today. I told him to reset them with the leftovers from the fox, and he walked away. As soon as I was sure he was far enough away, I dropped to the ground, stared at the sky, and felt this ecstatic smile take over my face. Drake loved me. I felt stupid for acting so giddy, but I couldn't help it. This was the first time I had felt joy without involving the pain of others since…well, it was the first time I had felt joy without the pain of others. Drake loved me, and in that moment, that was all that mattered.


	7. Especially Not From Himself

**So after a long time of not updating (my apologies to the loyal reviewers), I have finally concocted Chapter Seven! **_***clears throat awkwardly after people miss their applause cues***_** Anyway, this is from Drake's point of view. It's pretty much an overview of everything that has happened so far, until the end, where it's them sitting all romantically by the campfire. **_***glares offstage after people miss their "Awww..!" cues***_**. And I know there have been delays, seeing as I promised Brittney would screw up everything in, like, chapter four, and I said that Caine would get a nice set of furs, but the story is turning out to be longer than I expected. But I promise on the Gaiaphage that everything will have been screwed up by Brittney and/or Caine by chapter ten. **_***yells in frustration as the light and sound people miss their cues to light the stage up green and play creepy music. Smacks hand on face when Nerezza totally screws up the Gaiaphage's speech and says, "Line?" Sits on edge of stage when you see two figures from behind the scrim, one a silhouette of a little boy and the other a teenager with a whip for an arm. The teenager screams: "DIE NEMESIS" and cracks his hand against the other silhouette, who screams in pain and says, "I'm not Nemesis! I'm Tanner! I am an angel of the Lord!" The teenager keeps whipping the boy, who swells and grows to a huge monster and yells "GODAMMIT DRAKE, YOU IDIOT! I AM YOUR MASTER!" Audience finally remembers how to read, notices cue card, and claps as the monster eats Drake***_** Well, I'll just get on with the story now. If my introductory skit didn't scare you off, please review!**

Drake felt strangely happy. He didn't really even know why, why some girl with a knife and a screwed up mind to rival his own could make him feel like this. It was such a different feeling than what he was used to people. Instead of another's pain being his pleasure, Sarah's happiness made him smile, Sarah's pain made him worried, and her sadness made him sad. It made him feel weak inside, and Drake Merwin did not put up with weakness from anyone, especially not himself. The thing was, it didn't just make him feel weak. He felt better with her there. And hadn't she already shown weakness on countless occasions?

When he first saw the fire pit, Drake hadn't been able to believe his luck. It would be one of Sam's people, ready and practically delivered to him for whipping. He didn't see a tent, but there were obvious signs of human presence. So he did what anyone would do: he looked up. What met his eyes was a girl about his age, maybe an inch or two shorter, holding a dagger, perched in the mouth of what looked like a very comfortable home. Drake didn't know whether it was a freak or a normal, and what powers the tree girl might have, so he raised his gun and took aim. She was on him before he'd had a chance to take it off safety, and he had had to admit, she was a good fighter. In the old days, this girl might've been trouble for him. But he couldn't be killed. She begged him for mercy though, and in the dim light he could see her blue green eyes watching, waiting for an answer. He admitted it felt unnerving. She proved she was an asset and could help him plan his attack.

Over the next few days, they had become friends. They hunted together and talked occasionally. Somehow her face seemed similar, and he couldn't decide whether he liked or hated it. She looked a little like Caine with her dark hair and cold, confident stare. Even for someone in the FAYZ, she was good-looking. Without Lana's help she was relatively healthy, and strong and fast enough to have made it on her own. Drake had been impressed.

It had hit him out of the blue one day, at the simplest of moments. The day's hunting was over, and the sun was just beginning to set. They were down by the stream, washing off the dirt and sweat of their labor. Drake was in his boxers, having already waded in up to his neck. He submerged his head and scrubbed his scalp with his human hand while the whip snaked around in the water. He came back up and shook out his hair. He blinked in the sunlight and his eyes came to rest on a rock outcropping that jutted out above the deepest part of the stream. It was about then feet deep there. But Sarah was there, in shorts and a bikini top that she had stolen from town back when the FAYZ was a relatively new thing, and Drake froze. The sunlight streamed through the trees and shone on her face, making her blue green eyes sparkle, a rare smile crossing her face. Sarah was beautiful. She jumped into the stream and tried to detangle her hair with her fingers. Drake went underwater again and tried to shake it from his mind. She was just a girl. He was a psychopath. But then came a surprising turn of events.

She had asked to be whipped. He gave her what she wanted, a powerful lash across her back, and he had grinned as she screamed and fell to the ground. But then she was laughing, and he was puzzled. She complimented his whip hand, and he had to ask. She was a sadist. And suddenly everything made more sense, at least to him. She took a while killing her prey. He had thought it was because afraid to kill. It was because killing wasn't good enough for her.

A part of Drake was excited at this. She would understand him! His desire for blood, his joy in hurting others, she knew it. She knew how it is; she lived it every day of her life. She wouldn't be disgusted by him, she would laugh with him and take part in the fun of the killing and the bleeding and the whipping.

So then why, when everything had been so clear in Drake's mind, had it been so hard for Sarah to see? She had fled, just ran away from him. He went looking for her when she didn't come back, and found her dead to the world at the base of a cedar, crying even in her sleep. What was wrong? Seeing her like this made Drake want to laugh, but it spawned a new emotion: protectiveness. Sarah would not hurt if he was there. He would not kill anyone or anything that dared to harm her. No, he would not kill, he would torture and whip and burn and hurt until they screamed for death like Brittney screams for death every day.

He picked her up and carried her home in his arms. She didn't stir once. He laid her down on her blanket and brushed her hair out of her face. She looked so angelic, so perfect, Drake couldn't resist. He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers for just a split second, then withdrew and sat at the base of the tree, eventually falling asleep. When he woke the next morning, she was gone again.

Gone.

That was what made Drake nervous. When her fifteenth birthday came, would she disappear? Or had she already been offered a choice and chosen to stay? Drake often wanted to whip himself for all his vanity. It was unlike him to want or need anyone.

Even though Sarah came back, Drake could see that she was on the verge of running away again, and never returning. The neediness he felt was making him feel uneasy, so he tried to assert himself as the leader for more of himself than Sarah. But she looked even more confused and scared, so he just did what he wanted to do. He kissed her. She kissed him back for a while, which was more than he had expected, but then she broke away, saying something about having to catch food. Hunting hadn't been at the top of Drake's list at that moment, but he went anyway. He needed time to process what had just happened.

Sarah had kissed him back. So she must like him too, or she wouldn't have done that. She would've screamed about what a monster he was and shoved him away. But she didn't. Suddenly Drake felt his whip hand receding, metal wires forming over his teeth, and yelled in anger. Brittney was coming. But Drake didn't worry. He would be back soon enough.

Three hours later, Brittney melted back into Drake's form. He quickly checked all the traps and reset the ones that had already caught something. He hauled the food back to camp and started a fire while Sarah skinned and gutted them. Soon the smell of cooking meat filled the air and yet another pelt was thrown onto the ever growing pile. When the meat was done cooking, they sat next to each other and tore into the dinner. After they were done Drake put his arm, the human one, around her and held her close. She buried her face in his shoulder for a minute and they sat there quietly. After a while Drake pointed to the pile of furs and said, "Why don't you bring those into town? You could trade them in for some fresh lettuce, or a towel, or something. Sarah looked at him like he was an idiot as well as a psychopath.

"And have Caine on my trail? No thanks," she said, in a snarky tone that reminded him so much of Diana he couldn't stand it. He struck her cheek with his whip, not as hard as he could have, but enough for her to let out a sharp gasp of pain and leave a bloody gash in her face. She stood up and slapped him hard across the face. It stung for a moment, but nothing like the whip had probably hurt her. Drake felt an emotion that he had never felt before: guilt. When he saw she wasn't hurt it lessened, and disappeared altogether when she hit him back. Still, it was strange for him. He didn't like it. It made him feel weak. And Drake Merwin did not put up with weakness from anyone, especially not himself.


	8. Love and Hate

**So! Chapter Eight! And Caine and Brittney have not managed to screw everything up yet! Give them a break. They have a very busy schedule. Caine has three hours a day devoted to staring at Diana's picture and crying, then another hour right after that of throwing things. Brittney only has a small window of opportunity due to sharing a body with Drake, and she has constant meetings with Tanner and the gaiaphage. This is one very happy and un-Drake-ish scene, but you should still read it! **

**And I would like to thank my ONE reviewer of chapters 4-7, Jamie Wilson! I am going to go out on a limb here and guess that the only reason people haven't reviewed is because I promised to send Drake after them if they didn't. I believe, due to his beauty/awesomeness/psychotic nature, people have been purposely NOT reviewing just to get near him. Well, now you have no excuse not to review because I fired Drake. Orc will now come after you if you continue to abstain from reviewing.**

**And really, which would you rather, a drunk gravel boy, or a few words to critique this story? Watch, now I'm going to get all sorts of anti-Drake people telling me that they love Orc. Just review the story. Please.**

**Now I think you've heard me ramble enough, so I'll get on with the story. Enjoy! :)**

Things began to settle into a pattern for my life in the FAYZ. I had had a rhythm at first, too, but it had been different. I did all the hunting and the living by myself. I was a single drum, beating to my own time. Now it was different. Drake had thrown a break into my pattern with his arrival and the catastrophe of emotions I had for him that followed. But now he was here with me, and I was regaining my rhythm of life. It was similar to the music from before, but now it was fuller, richer, a deeper drum keeping time with my own as well. We lost the beat sometimes, but usually stayed on time with each other, getting used to each other.

I was still getting used to Drake, and his closeness above anything else. His few clothes went right in the drawer with mine, his guns with mine, although clearly separated. That was a part of him that he did not feel comfortable sharing. I felt the same about my knives and pistol. We were sadists first, lovers second.

My life soon revolved around a few daily events. Wake up. Eat. Hunt or tend camp while Drake hunts. Clean the kills. Have lunch. Hunt more or gather berries if the nearby bushes are productive. Eat dinner at the campfire. Sit in Drake's arms afterwards. Sleep. Drake stayed in the tree house at nights now. I felt safer with him there, which was strange. I should feel the opposite. It was likely he would take my own knife from the drawer and slit my throat. He would probably kill me in my sleep without a second thought.

But still, for some stupid, shallow reason, I trusted him.

It was nice to think that after all this, he might hesitate before killing me. But I didn't delude myself. This was Drake Merwin. He was merciless, unloving. Yet I trusted him.

One night, he said he had something special planned. He took my hand in his and led me away from the campsite into the dark woods with a guiltily happy smile. This made me think about my power. If I could create something, manipulate pure darkness, it would be like shaping the night itself. I could own the night with my power. But I couldn't try it now. I still hadn't told Drake about my power. We walked until we came to the side of the stream, where a blanket was spread out. Food, actual man made looking food, was there too. I looked at Drake, who was staring at me, uncertain. "Do you like it? I didn't know if you would, but I wanted to make it nice for you-" I turned to Drake and kissed him slowly. I pulled away and sat on the blanket.

"It's perfect," I said, really meaning it. Drake smiled then, a happy smile. We sat and ate and talked. It was something that I never thought could happen in the FAYZ. A clean blanket, no mutant bugs or flying snakes attacking. It was something that I never thought could happen outside the FAYZ , either. I was a runaway, constantly being transferred from orphanage to orphanage, picking fights and hurting people. No one really wanted to get to know me. I wasn't taken on any dates. That was fine with me. I never really liked other people. They didn't understand me. But Drake opened a whole new door of possibilities. He understood my bloodlust, my sick pleasure at others' expense. And he was just as screwed up inside. That thought was comforting. Most people would wrinkle up their faces in disgust when they saw what I really was.

I tried to forget. I didn't want to think about my past. But it was hard to forget all the locked doors, wails, and sounds of angry hands on faces. Images rushed back to me, and it was all I could do to keep them down. The hospital reconciliatory visit. The stolen blood. Seeing a beautiful creature in the mirror, painted in red. The horrified scream. The conversation I wasn't supposed to hear. The immediate transfer of me from my orphanage to another. I took a deep breath.

Forget all that, I thought, look at the moment. The only boy who understands, right here, right next to me. As if on cue, Drake put his arms around me. I put my head on his chest. We looked at the stars in silence. They were all an illusion. All just an illusion caused by my brother's girlfriend's autistic super powerful brother. Then I realized, with a suffocating feeling rising in my chest, this was the moment. The time to tell him. But if I told him about my family, how much of my past would I be forced to reveal?

"Drake," I said, an undesirable note of fear in my voice, "I have to tell you something. I haven't been completely honest with you." Drake turned to me, not upset looking, but smiling expectantly. "Well, I don't know how to put it best, but let's just say you're dating your best friend's sister." Drake scowled.

"Caine isn't my friend anymore," he said, and I didn't blame him. "We stopped being friends once he got obsessed with Diana. God, I couldn't stand that girl." I almost wanted to laugh. Drake had his priorities jumbled sometimes, putting his old hatreds above whatever was in front of him.

"Well, that means you hate both of my brothers, then," I said calmly.

"Hmmm, I wonder why. Sam has tried on multiple occasions to burn me to ashes, Caine shut me in the mine shaft with the Darkness, and he also made a hobby of chucking me at walls when he was angry, happy, sad, annoyed, bored, anytime really!"

"You whipped Sam almost to death and threatened to slowly and painfully kill his girlfriend. And you were trying to take Caine's power from him. We both know he becomes very territorial about power…and Diana."

"Listen to yourself," Drake yelled, standing suddenly, face disgusted with me. "Why are you defending them?" His whip sliced open my back, once, twice, three times. My entire torso was ripped into fiery shreds, pulled a thousand different ways at once. I fell to lie on my side on the blanket. Drake walked away. I felt hot tears in my eyes and let them fall. My back went from burning pain to a throbbing that continued. I listened to the wind in the trees with my eyes closed.

Drake came back a while later. I think he thought I was sleeping. I heard a rustle as he lay down next to me and whispered, "Are you asleep?" I didn't answer. I didn't want to talk to him. He had just mutilated my back. I wasn't going to forgive him so easily. He took me for asleep and breathed in deeply, then began something he had obviously put effort in. "Good, because I don't apologize. I don't apologize to anyone. But with you, I feel, I don't know, like you are the exception. Like I should be keeping you safe. But I don't know why. And I hate it. I hate you. I hate having to be so careful and cautious and so damn nice to you. It's a pain in the neck, but I do it for you. And even I don't know why. So I guess I'm just trying to say…sorry. I don't even know what I have to say sorry for, because I've been nicer to you than I've been to anyone in my entire life. So I guess what I'm really saying, under the apology, is that you're annoying, and I'm sick of it, but it's a good different. Like it's worth it when I see you smile. I love you. But I hate you too." I was not going to forgive him that easily. He wasn't just going to make up some sappy speech. A speech wasn't going to fix my back.

But was I really a pain to him? That was the last thing I wanted to be. I wanted him to be comfortable. He just had to say he was going to hurt me and I would laugh in the agony of it. But he thought it was worth it. He liked my smile. I couldn't stand it anymore. I opened my eyes with a quiet smile.

"I hate you too, Drake," I murmured, pulling him closer and kissing him. His whip twisted and curled around me, and he kissed me back. Drake Merwin hated me. But he loved me too. That was more than enough for me.


	9. The King's Discovery

**Chapter Nine! And finally, as promised, Caine begins to wreck everything up via Bug! Brittney has yet to ruin things though, but it will be worth the wait when you see what happens!**

**I also learned that threatening people to review my story does not actually work, so I'm changing it around. I also learned that not everyone loves Drake as much as I do. So, if you DO review, just include character of choice and I will send them after you. Be aware though, the waiting lines for Caine and Drake are usually the longest, unfortunately. :(**

**Now, read this chapter from Caine's point of view! And yes, he is in love with himself to some extent here, but he also misses Diana. Anyway, READ! And REVIEW! :D**

Caine sank back in his big leather swivel chair in the town hall where he had his office. He had started to think of it as his throne. Before the power went out, it had even been a massage chair. Caine made a personal note to throw the idiot who turned off the power against a wall. Then he remembered he had been the one who did it. Caine wondered if he could throw himself against a wall. Could he kill himself using his powers? He had heard that Hunter tried to fry his own brain while he was being eaten alive, but it had failed. Sam had been the one to burn him to ashes.

Caine wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Here he was, the king of the newly thriving Perdido Beach, thinking of using his telekinesis for suicide. He had no reason to. Sam was gone, miles away from him, not wanting to challenge him. Water was an issue, but Albert was helping to get rid of the problem. They were trying to get a piping system going, not to the individual houses, but to a main point in the center of town where they could easily get water to the hospital and where kids could come get a drink. He didn't have the group of loyal soldiers Drake had, but he had Bug and Taylor and Penny and…

There it was. That was the reason he was thinking of killing himself. He had everything he had ever dreamed of: Perdido Beach, kingship, but not Diana. She had left. Why? Why did she leave him? She had been sulking about leaving the island, but Caine had put it down to leaving the luxury for the dirty wreck that was the town. Maybe there was something else behind it. What could it be?

How could she choose Sam over him? What did Sam have that he did not? Caine felt tears in his eyes. He could not let them fall. Albert was meeting him soon, and he could not look as if he'd been crying. He could not look like a weak leader and lose the respect that others had begun to hold for him. But he knew that tonight, when his head hit the pillows and Diana was not lying there with him, he would no longer be able to hold back the tears. He would cry himself to sleep and dream of her.

Albert stepped in through the doorway unannounced, earning a murderous glare from Caine. How dare Albert disturb Caine's thoughts, the ungrateful little—

Caine tried to stop thinking like that. They had had a meeting planned for today. Albert took a seat opposite Caine and began without a beat. "There has been an influx of furs, Caine. Suddenly kids all over the place have rugs, blankets, even capes made of them." Caine raised his eyebrows.

"So?" he asked indifferently. He began to feel annoyed. Albert had drawn Caine's thought from Diana for a few animal skins?

"So," said Albert, as if it were obvious, "Who is getting and selling these furs? When I asked around, it was suspicious. No one could remember exactly. It took me ages just to find out it was a she, a relatively unhurt girl with a giant box of furs for sale. She didn't say much, but no one recognized her or questioned her being from somewhere else. One kid who had obviously been smart, had asked if she was one of Sam's people. She had said no."

"I'm still not seeing what the big deal is here," Caine snapped angrily. Albert was making no sense.

"Look, I'll try and lay it out clearly for an egomaniac like you, Caine," Albert said, equally venomous. Caine wanted to kill him, but they both knew he couldn't. Albert was necessary. "One of the furs she was selling was a mountain lion. She was unscathed, from what I hear, except for slashes on her back. There is a girl out in the woods, with a major power. She can make people forget her, do you understand how good at deception that makes her? Better than Bug, practically. Now, here's what I think. She has lashes on her back. Classic sign of meeting Drake but not Lana, correct? So, a girl, supporting neither you nor Sam. Lashes on her back. Selling lion furs. I think that makes her a candidate for being in league with Drake, doesn't it? Drake plus powerful freak on his side. Brittney has now apparently been convinced by the gaiaphage to do whatever Drake is doing, so that makes three."

Caine stared at Albert. This was bad. This was very bad. "Next time she comes to town," Caine started to say, a plan forming in his head, "arrest her. And bring her to me. I have to question her myself." Albert nodded and left the room. Caine leaned back in the chair and groaned. This was troubling. But this girl would regret whatever she had done soon enough. And who knew, maybe she would become an ally.

The next morning, Taylor bounced into Caine's office, causing him to swear. He would never get over how unnerving her appearances were. "A message from Albert," She began with a smile. "He would like to say, 'We've caught her'." Then she was gone. Caine took a deep breath. Ten minutes later, two muscled boys pulled in a girl who looked about Caine's age. She didn't struggle, just calmly stepped in front of Caine and looked into his eyes. Caine immediately didn't like her. He dismissed the two boys and sat down in his chair. He gestured for her to do the same, and she sat.

"So, I hear you've been working with Drake," said Caine. The girl continued to stare at him silently. He looked her up and down. She didn't look like a powerful freak, but she was beautiful, especially for someone who had been living in the forest. She had something in her face that resembled Sam in a way, but there was something else there too, another face that really emphasized her looks to Caine. Something about her was familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. "Why don't you struggle? You have been caught," Caine said, annoyed at her silence.

"Because I knew I would have to face you sooner or later, Caine. I had to meet you at some point. And I know that you cannot kill me." Caine looked at her in anger.

"You will address me as King Caine, and you would be surprised at how fast I could kill you." The girl laughed, like this was funny. Caine was completely enraged. She thought she could beat him! "I could kill you in a second. I'm the four bar! I'm the king!" The girl stood slowly and extended her hand to Caine.

"Do you see these scars?" She asked, "I marked them into my skin as a reminder of who I was after a nice talk with a person you cry over every night. She told me, and she never told you, because I threatened her with another friend of ours whom I didn't know at the time, but you knew. Now it switched. I know him, and you do not. I know you, but you don't know me. I know why she left, too, which is a reason for you to spare my life, even if you were able to take it. You can't beat me, Caine."

Caine was outraged, but he processed what he heard. Six scars.

Six bar powers.

She knew Drake.

She

Knew

Diana.

Suddenly his hands were out, hurling her into the painted cinderblock wall with as much telekinetic force as he could muster. What happened next was a blur. It was like the wall turned to jelly around her, catching her and absorbing the shock of the impact. She stepped to the ground unharmed, and Caine knew how he had to kill her. "I'll get Sam," he said. As much as he hated to admit it, he needed his brother for this. "He'll burn you to ashes while I hold you down." It was a terrible thought, but it didn't matter. She was with Drake. She had threatened Diana.

"Oh, but Sam can't kill me either, once he knows the truth," The girl said with a laugh. "He couldn't even kill Brittney, so how will his conscience let him kill his own twin sister?" Caine froze and looked at her. Then it hit him like a freight train, where he had seen the face before, why he found it so attractive. He had seen that nose, that hair, that smile, in his mirror every morning. "My name is Sarah, by the way," she said, then walked out of the room. Caine was too shocked to follow her. All he knew was that he had a sister more powerful than he was who was working with Drake.

"Bug!" He yelled, and Bug rushed in from down the hall, eager to spy on someone.

"Hi, King Caine," Bug said, "Who was that girl? I think she's crazy. She isn't Diana's replacement…is she?" he said the last sentence with a note of uncertainty.

"Follow her," Caine said, "Go see what she is doing, and report back to me." Bug nodded and disappeared from sight as he stepped out of the room. Caine fell into his chair and fainted.


	10. Beginning of the End

**Hey-O! So, this is a really long chapter, but that's okay, because it's awesome and features a special guest character! (Hint: he is Sarah's other brother) That's right, you guessed it, Sam Temple is in this chapter! So, even if you don't like the guest character, you should still review and he'll give you a SammySun! :D And who doesn't want one of those? *Elbows Drake, Caine, and the Human Crew to shut up***

**This is also an awesome chapter because Brittney and Caine screw up everything! :D**

**Well, I won't bother you anymore, so go ahead and read! And don't forget to REVIEW!**

I walked out. No one followed me. Or at least, no one that I could see. Bug was probably on my tail that very moment. Still, when I reached the edge of town I ran through the woods and didn't stop until I made it home. Drake was there, cleaning a kill. I ran up to him.

"Caine found me," I panted. "He knows who I am." Drake looked at me like he was almost worried. He did something very soothing and un-Drake-like. He stood up and held out his arms. I fell into him, tears beginning to form in the corners of my eyes. He held me close like that for a while as the sun set. I started the fire with my powers but still sat there with Drake. He was coldhearted and pitiless, but his chest was warm. His heart was made of stone, but it still thumped in his chest. "You know," I began, "You don't have to worry so much about hurting me. I like it. I'm just as screwed up as you are, Drake." He didn't say anything. "Am I really that much of an annoyance?" I asked quietly, unsure. Drake looked at the ground, voice completely emotionless as he said it.

"I feel like it goes against who I am. I don't want to be Drake Merwin, the guy who's in love. I want to keep being Drake Merwin, Whip Hand, all of that. You sort of make me forget that. But it's worth it. You're worth it." He paused here, and looked at me sheepishly. "But, um…can I hurt you, from time to time? Nothing major, just maybe a whip lash or a punch here or there…?" I almost laughed. He could slit my throat for all I cared. He thought I was worth it. In that moment, nothing else mattered. I nodded in reply, and we were once again silent.

He looked at me for a long moment, and his lips found mine in the darkness. It was a soft kiss, and I found myself wanting more. I reached to pull him closer to me, and his human hand moved to my neckline. I heard him mutter something about a pig, but I didn't register it at the moment. I did register when something hard formed over his teeth. Drake didn't have braces…

I opened my eyes and leapt back in revulsion. Where Drake had once sat a moment before was that girl I had seen the night before I first met him. Her clothes were dirty, and she wore glasses and had braces. She was a little pudgy and had stringy blonde hair that fell in pigtails just past her shoulders. I stuttered for a moment, at a loss for words. "What the f—who the hell are you?" I asked in shock.

"I'm Brittney," she said calmly. "Drake's literal other half. I was wondering why he has been fighting the change more often recently. I suppose he didn't want the two of us to meet." She sat there calmly, like this was nothing new. I was still confused.

"You kissed me," I said, giving her a strange look. She sighed, as if regretting Drake's actions.

"Technically, Drake was kissing you, when we had the unfortunate event of switching control, so I was left with you here."

"Technically," I replied, "You had your lips pressed against mine, which counts as kissing." She shook her head.

"Well, I'm not going to sit here arguing about it. Drake will be back in a few hours. And when he does come back, tell him he cannot keep avoiding his master. He has to come back sometime."

"What are you going to do?" I asked, confused.

"Pray," Brittney answered tersely, then closed her eyes, folded her hands, and began to mutter words that made no sense to me. I stepped back and picked up the animal Drake had been skinning and sat down with it, a good five feet between myself and Brittney. She didn't notice me at all. She looked like she was in her own little world. I finished removing the entrails and put the meat over the fire pit to roast. I grabbed the innards and walked to go reset the traps. I needed some time to clear my head, anyway.

I couldn't believe I hadn't figured it out ages ago. After he left Caine's group, I stopped watching him as much. I didn't need to spy on anyone besides my brothers. But still, how had I missed Drake turning into Brittney every couple hours?

The traps had yielded a few rabbits and a squirrel. I carried them back to the campsite, where Drake was waiting for me, not Brittney. "Sarah," he began, and I dropped the animals and walked over to him. I pulled out my knife and sank my dagger into his chest. He looked down at it, then back at me. "Sarah, I'm sorry," he pleaded. I turned away. "Sarah, I said sorry!"

He was angry that he had apologized and I hadn't forgiven him. He struck me across the back again and again and then once more for good measure. I couldn't see; the pain was blinding me. I fell to the ground on my stomach, face turned towards the fire. I could see a few coals glowing. Then they were blocked by a very dirty shoe. I craned my neck as much as I could. I could only see up to his knee, so I gave up and thudded back down again. My back was in agony. The old lashes that had just been starting to become scars were all reopened. My back was a mess of blood and shredded skin. I felt myself drifting, drifting off to sleep.

I fought it as hard as I could. I couldn't black out now. Then I would be at the mercy of Drake's whip until he calmed down, which might not be until I was dead. I desperately tried to keep my eyes open but still I was fading, fading…fading…

I woke a few hours later. I was in my tree house, and Drake was right above me. My head was in his lap, and there was gauze wrapped around my torso. Drake looked at me, and I reached out with my consciousness to see what he was feeling. Two things I never would have expected Drake Merwin to feel: compassion and guilt. I didn't even know he had the capacity to feel those emotions.

"Usually," he said, "when someone says sorry, you say something nice back." He felt bad about hurting me, but I wasn't ready to forgive.

"Usually, when someone is mad at you, whipping them until they pass out doesn't make them want to forgive you." I replied. Drake looked hurt for a second before resuming his usual angry stare. But that one second of hurt that crossed his face broke my resolve. I didn't want to forgive him. But this was Drake, who could have let me die but saved me and tried to help me after hurting me. This was Drake, the only other person in the world I could trust. This was Drake, who I hated more than anything else in the world, but I loved him too.

Drake could see it in my eyes. "Lucky for me, this isn't usually, is it?" he asked, and I smiled. He pulled me up to him and kissed me. Suddenly my head fell to the floor with a thud and Drake was thrown against the wall, knocking over the plastic drawers. "What was that?" he asked angrily, and I pulled myself up.

"Caine," I muttered, and then leaned over the edge of the tree house, where my brother stood. Louder I said, "Get out of here, Caine. What do you want with me?" Caine smiled.

"With you we want nothing, seeing as you aren't hostile and aren't concerned with death. We could care less about you. I have a few issues with the other person up there, and by the way, what were you two doing up there?" I resisted the urge to blush. Drake jumped out of the tree house and landed in front of Caine. "Well, hello, old friend," he addressed Drake. "I'm going to kill you." Drake snorted, whip hand twitching, ready for a fight.

"Caine, we both know even you can't kill me," Drake laughed maniacally. "I can't be killed!" Caine was the one who smiled now, calm and cold.

"Oh, yes, I can't kill you," Caine said. "But I brought someone with me who can." Everything slowed down as I watched. Twin beams of green light hit Drake, who screamed in agony. The lights illuminated Sam, who had a cold, merciless face, burning Drake to ashes. I could feel his emotions, anger and fear and hatred for all that Drake had done to him: threatened Astrid, whipped him to the brink of death, everything. But still, he couldn't kill Drake. He couldn't. I felt myself falling, falling, falling, out of the tree house, falling through the light. It burned my skin and made me scream in pain. It was a million times worse than Drake's whip, it was pure agony. I registered falling out of the light and impacting the ground. I saw the brightness from behind my eyelids disappear. The pain was still unbearable, but I staggered to my feet and opened my eyes to see Sam standing there looking at me in horror, Caine screaming to keep killing Drake, who was slowly reforming, thank God.

"Sam, please," I gasped desperately, "Don't kill him." I lunged forward, movements awkward, like I was drunk. Sam looked at me with revulsion. I wondered what I must have looked like, whipped and burned, even uglier on the inside. I heard the sirens in my head, felt the welt on my face where the woman slapped me. 'You did that' she yelled, as I watched the footage of the mangled, burned bodies pulled from the building over and over again. She had hit me, and all I remember was the pride swelling in my chest as I saw the burning building, the pride in having caused so much pain.

"Sam, kill him!" Caine yelled, "Quickly! He's reforming! Hurry!" Sam looked at Drake, whose side was beginning to regenerate, regrow flesh before our eyes.

"Please," I begged, at his feet, "Sam, please, don't kill him, please, kill me instead," I was shocked at the words coming out of my own mouth. I was willing to lay down my life for this psychopath? Sam and Caine were both staring at me like I was crazy. Drake stood up, almost done regenerating.

"No!" he shouted, "Don't kill her!" Then, because he was Drake, he added, "If you so much as lay a finger on her, you'll all die by my whip. I will make you all wish you had never lived. I will make you scream for death like Brittney does every day!" We were all at a standoff. Sam was facing me, palms out, Drake was facing him, whip raised, I was facing Caine, knife in my hand, and he was facing Drake, ready to send him flying fifty feet.

Sam was the first to break the silence. He looked at me. "Why are you helping Drake? And why aren't you 'concerned with death'?" I took a deep breath. So this was when the entire truth would come out.

"I'm helping Drake because…because…" I looked at Drake for a second before the rest of my words came out quickly, all jumbled together. "Because I love him. And I don't fear death because I know Caine can't kill me without you." Sam looked confused.

"But I'm right here," he said slowly, "What's to say we won't kill you here and now?" I looked at Sam, so naïve, and I knew I had to tell him the truth.

"You couldn't even kill Brittney. How are you going to murder me when you know the truth?" Sam shoved his palms forward.

"Truth? What truth? What are you talking about?" he said, confused.

"No! Don't listen to her!" Caine shouted, desperate to keep Sam on his side. "She's lying! Don't listen to her!" Sam turned towards me and stepped forward.

"What truth!" Sam asked urgently. I looked at Caine and didn't even need powers to sense his emotions. Pure hatred was written all over his face. Then I turned to look at Sam. He was afraid, nervous, but unsure. He didn't want to kill me if I had information.

"I'm your sister," I breathed, then repeated it louder. "I'm your sister. You would never murder me. It isn't in your character." Caine flew at me, blind with rage. A sudden crack and he was on his knees, red line on his back opening up and starting to bleed freely. Sam looked in my eyes. I nodded a silent confirmation of what he was asking. He moved towards me, and my hand tightened around my knife before I realized he was hugging me.

"You were right," Sam said, and I think he was tearing up. "I can't kill you. Drake, on the other hand…" He rose and moved into a fighting stance. Drake's arm slashed the air in front of him.

"No!" I yelled, and both boys looked at me in surprise. "Please, just…don't kill him. Sam, go take Caine to Lana. She can fix his injury. Drake, he's my brother. Just let each other live for the time being, please!" Now I could feel myself crying, and cursed on the inside. Drake would think I was an idiotic sobbing girl and Sam would think I was some weak little sister. I didn't want his pity. Sam backed up and helped Caine to his feet.

"Sarah, I hate you," Caine's shaky voice. I looked at him and smiled. Of course he did. Everyone hated me.

"Sarah," said Sam, more kindly than Caine, "are you sure you want to stay here? You really love…that monster?" He pointed at Drake, who gave a signature shark grin. I laughed and moved to Drake, who put an arm around my waist. Sam shrugged. "Ugh. This is like déjà vu." I laughed again. Right after the Thanksgiving Battle, he had asked Diana the same thing about Caine. Caine seemed to pick up on that and moaned.

"Diana…" He pined. Drake was trying to resist the urge to burst out laughing. I punched him lightly to keep him quiet. Caine had already lost this battle. We didn't need to rub it in his face, as tempting as it was. Sam helped him limp off, back in the direction of the town. I wondered what the kids would think of their great king, half dead and moaning for his ex-girlfriend, carried by his archenemy, Sam. I would have paid to see it.

"No, not now," Drake said, but already he was shrinking, whip hand receding to a regular arm, braces forming over his teeth. Brittney was coming. I watched in equal parts horror and fascination as he twisted and transformed into the little prayerful girl. After he was done, Brittney looked at me.

"I have to leave," she said, and immediately began walking away, deeper into the forest. I was happy to see her go until I realized that wherever she went, Drake went too. I ran after her and cut her off. She wasn't very fast.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To see my God, and Drake's master," she said.

That was when everything in my life truly began to fall apart.


	11. The Final Night

**So here I am at Chapter 11! :D I have to say, I'm going to miss this story. There will probably be just one more chapter, maybe two, and then it will be over. I love all my reviewers and am eternally grateful to everything they have done so far! And I really need you to review this chapter most of all because I had mixed feelings about the last part. **

**So tell me your feelings! Did you like it? Did you find it unnecessary? Was it totally weird? I am hungry (for feedback) in the dark! **

**Speaking of which, ****from this chapter on, I am changing the rating to T**** because I am paranoid and do not want this story to be taken off the internet after working on this so hard! So don't read this if you don't think you can handle it!**

**If you can handle it, go ahead, read, and review! :)**

I was packing, shoving the bare necessities into a backpack as quickly as I could. I ran through a mental checklist: knives, cloth, water, food, bandages. It wasn't much. I couldn't carry that much water, just a bottle full. If I was going to the mine shaft in the desert, I was going to have to use it carefully. Food was just a few leftover roasted squirrels. I had a pack of matches to get a fire going, but I was still a little worried about finding food to cook in the desert. Then there were the coyotes. I wasn't worried about them attacking me, but I would be competing with them for prey.

I healed faster than most people, maybe because of my powers, so the whip lashes were already beginning to scar, and most of the pain was already gone. After bathing myself in the stream, I grabbed my bag, said goodbye to my little forest home, making sure nothing was left out visible in the open, and started walking. I was following Drake. I wasn't going to leave him in the hands of that monster, that radiation-eating alien that Brittney worshipped. I was going to find him and stop him. I had to.

Hiding from Brittney was easy. I kept a good distance. She was loud and obvious as she crashed through the underbrush, leaving a trail a blind person could follow. I kept at a good distance, slipping among the trees. These were my woods. I hunted here every day for the past ten months. No one could escape me in here.

Hiding from Drake was harder. He had been hunting with me, so he knew the woods well too. He was quiet, so quiet I had to stay closer to him to keep him in sight. But I had to make sure he could not hear or see me. This was when my powers indirectly came in handy. I couldn't use them in inanimate objects or insentient creatures, but I was so used to the feeling of reaching out with my mind, I could reach the calm state of meditation easily. I just stopped and closed my eyes, lying completely still, and listened to the forest: the soft breeze rippling through the leaves in the trees, the chatter of birds, and the creak of the old trees swaying. I felt the forest, and I willed myself to become the forest, make it into my mask. I didn't even have a real mask of it using my powers, but it was enough. I believed it, and so would anyone else I crossed in here.

Of course, in the desert, out in the open, it would be another story. I didn't know the terrain as well as I knew the forest, and there would be nothing to provide concealment. Still, I had to follow him. I had to save Drake. And if I couldn't do that, I had to find out what was going to happen to him.

After a day of traveling through the woods, the trees began to thin out. We had reached the desert. Brittney began to walk with a new spring in her step, that much closer to reaching her master. I didn't let her see me. I didn't want her to think I was an enemy by getting between her and her goal.

Drake emerged a few hours later, and by then night was falling. Still, he walked on. I followed at a safe distance, thinking about jumping out and making myself known, when Drake stopped. A coyote revealed itself and spoke in that strange voice it had. "Darkness angry. Wants you now." It snarled.

"I know," Drake snarled back even more venomously, and the coyote shrank back in submission. I found that strangely funny in my sadistic way.

"Girl," said the coyote, "A girl here." Drake wanted to whip the stupid coyote right then and there, I could tell that.

"Yes, you stupid beast, Brittney Pig is here sometimes. She is me. Don't eat her, or Darkness eats you." The coyote took that very seriously and whimpered, then continued.

"No. Not Darkness girl. Girl follow you." It took a second for that to sink in. Then I froze. The coyote meant me. Drake tensed up. He knew it was me. He didn't know where I was, but he knew I was there.

"No there isn't, you dumb animal. Get out of here before I whip the words from your mouth." The coyote yipped in terror and tore off into the night. Then, quieter, Drake spoke out. "Sarah? Where are you? Don't pretend you aren't there. I know you are." I sighed and stood up. We looked at each other for a long moment. Drake looked like he was trying to decide whether to whip me or hug me. He found a happy medium in his mind by hugging me but squeezing his whip hand around my lungs a little harder than necessary. "What are you doing here?" he said angrily, sitting me down next to him on the sandy ground. I looked at him.

"Brittney said you had to see your master. I didn't want anything bad to happen to you. I don't trust her," I said. Drake put his head in his hands.

"Well, I didn't want you following me for a reason, you know," he said angrily, as if I should have already known his reason.

"What is your reason, Drake?" I asked with sarcastic interest. "Because you know what? I really don't know what I'm doing wrong right now. You abandon me to go to a mine shaft in the desert to talk to some stupid mutant…alien…thing, and then yell at me when I follow you to see what's going on. So tell me, what the hell is going on here?" Drake struck me then, not with his whip but with his human hand, a slap across my face that stung, but only slightly compared to his usual whip lashes.

"Don't," he said darkly, don't talk about it. Don't even talk about it." Drake looked around worriedly, and I think Drake Merwin was afraid. "Look, I wanted you to stay away because I don't want it to touch you. I don't want it in your head and screwing with your thoughts like it does to me. I was messed up before I touched it, but now I'm a thousand times more mentally unstable. When I hurt people, it's great. I have a voice in my head telling me who to kill, who to keep alive. But the rest of the time? It's torture. It has this hold on me and I can't get rid of it. I don't want that thing to touch your mind and confuse you like it did to me."

I stared at him in shock. Drake was trying to protect me from the Darkness. He might be abusive, sadistic, and psychotic, but he cared about me. I felt a surge of some new emotion I never felt before: compassion. I cared. I didn't want this alien messing his head up any more than he did. He looked around again and then back at me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and addressed me in a fast, harsh, manner.

"It's angry with me. I disobeyed it, said I wanted to kill Sam and Caine before Nemesis. If Brittney hadn't shown up, I would have done what I wanted. And then not reporting back to it—spending the last month with you—it is going to make me so I can't fight it anymore. Do you know what that means? It's going to make me like Nerezza."

I barely understood what he was saying. Nemesis? Nerezza?

"Sarah, Nerezza was a walking, talking, pure vessel of the Darkness. It was her. Not in the way Brittney is me; she was a human girl's body with the Darkness's mind. It is going to take full control of me so I will be like that. I will be Drake on the outside, but gaiaphage on the inside." He had tears in the corners of his eyes, and I realized he was crying.

Drake was going to have his mind destroyed and possessed by an unearthly monster. I felt myself crying too. Drake was going to be gone. He was going to finally die. His body would still be there, but all his thoughts and feelings would be gone forever.

Gone.

I fell into his arms, tears running down my cheeks. After everything I had done, telling the truth to my brothers, everything to keep him alive, he was going to be torn out of my grasp and killed before my very eyes. I cried into his shoulder, and he cried into my hair. We sat there for a few minutes, completely and utterly messed up people feeling sorry for ourselves for the first time in our pathetic, violent lives. Drake moved his head, lips brushing my ear.

"Sarah," he said slowly. "This is my last night as me. This is one of my final hours, if Brittney Pig shows up." I turned my head to look at him. He looked at me. He kissed me. It was a different sort of kiss, full of passion, full of everything that he wouldn't be able to say before he died. I kissed him back, trying to convey everything I would never be able to say before he was dead, things I would never say in my entire lifetime.

He pulled away, and stared into my eyes, asking that question. I knew what I was getting into. I moved to him and kissed him again. His whip hand moved to the back of my neck, not to hurt me, but just to touch me. He traced down my spine to the small of my back. I was so intoxicated by him, I could barely stand it. My hands cupped his face and slid down to undo the top button of his shirt.

Drake watched me with hunger, with need. The tears we had been shedding just minutes before were gone. Only the tear tracks on our faces left a reminder that we had ever been anything but happy.


	12. A New Life

**This is the final chapter of this story. I'm really sorry to end it, after all this time, but I think I'm happy with the way it turned out. And maybe a sequel will come soon…!**

**I am eternally grateful to all my reviewers! Special thanks to: Jamie Wilson, FrostyShadows, magenta raspberry, reptileCRAZY1013, TheCheesePigeon, and pumpkinpatch212. I LOVE YOU GUYS! :D :D :D**

**That was a little weird…anyway…**

**If you haven't reviewed yet, read the story and click the little button at the bottom of the page. It says, "Review This Chapter". You really can't miss it. Please! I just need 2 more reviews, and then I will reach the 20 mark and be so incredibly happy I will go down the mine shaft and give the gaiaphage a great big hug. If you want to see me hug it, REVIEW! ;)**

Months have passed. I have returned to my forest home after watching the new Drake exit the mine, all the while knowing that he wasn't Drake anymore. It has been awful.

The morning after that unforgettable night, we had said our final goodbyes and he had walked bravely to the mouth of the mine, where he stopped and turned back to me. I smiled and tried to pretend that I wasn't crying, that I wasn't holding back the insecure, unstable part of me that wanted to scream and run to him and drag him back, that everything was going to be okay. Nothing could change the facts, though. Nothing was ever going to be okay.

It was a small comfort to know that the last thing he saw in the light of day was me. Then he stepped into the mine and disappeared from view. Then I didn't have to try and hide it any more. I sank to the ground and cried. Why was it, why this cruel twist of fate—the only person I had ever loved had to die. And I felt like it was my fault. It was because he was with me that Drake hadn't gone back to his master, because of me that he had to be fully possessed. If I had been able to stop me from falling in love with him, then maybe, just maybe things wouldn't have ended like this. But they had.

And the sad thing was; I knew myself. If offered the chance, I probably still wouldn't change it. That was who I was: Sarah, the selfish, sadistic mutant. I would always be that girl. I had known years would pass and I would forget Drake. He would fade to just a memory, nothing more than a teenage boy I had fallen for in a moment of weakness. I would become fully myself, fully Sarah again, with no weaknesses or conscience, just painful memories and a fondness for knives and destruction. The closest thing to love I had ever had would disappear, and I would go back to my spying on my brothers.

For the first time in my life, I had looked at what my future might be. An asylum or a small house would be my home. I would continue to spy on Sam and Caine. It would be harder, now that they knew I existed. They would acknowledge me at some point, or at least Sam would. Maybe he would send me letters. Somehow, I had envisioned a card with Sam, Astrid and a little baby on the front reading, "Happy Holidays!" and another with Caine, Diana, and several children on it that said "Merry Christmas!". I hadn't been able to believe myself. Drake was being possessed, and I was thinking of my brothers sending me Christmas cards. After the worst of my crying was over, I had stood up and had begun to walk back to the woods. I hadn't wanted to be here when the monster in Drake's body came out. I hadn't known if I could take it. Back in the woods, I had cried at the same spot where I had first realized I loved him. Then I returned to the spot where I had first leapt on him, ready to kill him. After I had done my fair share of remembering and crying, I had gone back to my life as usual. Still, I had felt a strange emptiness as I worked alone to hunt and clean kills without him.

It had hurt to think about him, so I had focused on my covert jobs. Over the next few months, Diana had begun to eat more and more. She grew like a balloon and threw up all over Sam's shoes several times, while Caine had become more upset over her absence with every passing day. Astrid was still nowhere to be found, and Sam was sad without her, but he seemed happy enough up at the lake. He had done a decent job planning it; no one was without a home, and the Nutella had not yet run out, but how long that would last, I had no idea.

After a few months, I began to notice changes in myself as well. Diana was not the only one growing bigger. I was eating more than ever, and began to desire things that I knew I couldn't have. Foods like chocolate cake or yogurt would come to mind at any given moment, and no matter how much wild bird I ate, I wasn't satisfied.

One day, I ate until I was full of meat and berries, only to wake from my sleep hours later to regurgitate everything I had eaten. Feeling weak, tired and dizzy, I climbed back up to my tree house and lay down. I closed my eyes, trying to fall back asleep. They flew open a minute later when I felt something kicking inside me.

I ruled out the bugs that hatched from inside. I would be numb and unfeeling from the venom they secreted, and that didn't explain my weight gain. I realized with a strangely calm certainty what was going on. I was with child. And it wasn't just any child. I was going to give birth to the heir of Drake Merwin.

I stared at the ceiling. This changed everything. I had to hide from both my brothers now, construct a new home where they would never find me. They would kill the baby in an instant to stop a mini-Drake from running around. Then I realized something. I was thinking about trying to protect the baby. I laughed at my stupidity. Me, a mother. It was ludicrous. I could never protect this child. I had tried to protect Drake, and look how he turned out?

Heck, I would probably slit the baby's throat in its first week of life if its cries got on my nerves. I was a psychopath just as much as Drake was. I could never raise a kid, unless I wanted them more screwed up than both their parents. I realized what was necessary. I realized what was going to be the best for everyone.

I am with Sam's people now. Diana nearly had a heart attack when I told her who the father was. She really doubts my sanity now. Sam looked a little worried when he found out, but he hasn't annoyed me about it. I have grown even bigger and can constantly feel the pounding of little feet kicking, trying out its new limbs. I often wonder whether the child will have a whip hand too. I try to convince myself his hand wasn't genetic. But I still wonder.

I have a plan all figured out, and Diana has probably guessed what it is by now as well. I will give birth to the baby. I will feed it for as short a time as necessary, then go to Sam and ask for death. If he refuses, I will go to Caine, who I know will be more than happy to oblige. In order for the baby to have any chance of a decent life in the FAYZ, it will have to be raised in a family with no one who enjoys pain or has mutated limbs that are natural weapons. I will ask Sam to be the baby's foster father—he is going to be its uncle, after all. Astrid could be a mother figure, if she returns and hasn't been driven to insanity with guilt. Everything will be fine. I will be dead and the child will have a normal family. It is perfect, flawless.

Of course, the moment the child arrives, a flaw presents itself. A tiny, ugly, red, scrunched up, thing has been born and now rests in my arms, alternating between screaming, sleeping, and feeding. The screaming is awful. It is lucky I am confined and weaponless, because I want to stab the thing's heart to get the noise to stop. The sleeping is the best. The thing breathes slowly and is warm against my chest, bundled in an old towel. The feeding isn't so bad, but it will soon, once the thing grows teeth.

I constantly remind myself to stop referring to it as a thing. It is a baby boy, with a tuft of peach fuzz hair on the top of his head and those dark eyes all newborns have. Diana gave birth a few weeks before I did, and her little girl is just beginning to learn to smile and gurgle. I don't fawn over it the way the others do. I turn to my own little baby and wrestle with two questions: what should I name this child, and how can I possibly leave him?

I cannot think of anything to name the little boy. Suggestions come pouring in, but none are right for this adorable boy fathered by a sadistic psychopath.

"Drake Junior," Sanjit says, and Lana elbows him. In turn, she suggests Patrick. I tell her there is no way I'm naming my son after her dog. She leaves after that.

"Mario," suggests Edilio. I snort, and tell him there is no way I'm naming my son after a video game character. He follows Sanjit and Lana after that.

One day a name came from out of the blue. "Daniel," I say quietly, liking the way it sounds on my tongue. I look down at the tiny thing in my arms and say it again. I smile. Daniel's eyes open and then flutter closed again. I like the name. I decide to keep it. Sam comes in later, and I tell him. He nods and smiles at the sleeping bundle in my arms. I can see from his face that he's trying to convince himself that letting this kid live is not going to end with him killing us.

More time passes. Daniel can smile and giggle, although he usually frowns. He can crawl around on his hands and knees and can stand if he holds on to something. Soon he will be taking his first steps. I have decided he looks like his father. He has the same gray eyes and sandy hair, but Diana says he has my facial features. Sometimes I look at him and he looks at me and I tear up. My resolve nearly breaks and I want to stay here with him, but I know I can't. It will be better if Daniel is brought up away from me, even if he has to live in the FAYZ.

One night I put Daniel down for a nap and I know this is the time. I go to Sam's tent. This is what I have to do. I realize that it is Daniel's first birthday today. I laugh bitterly. Only fourteen more before he is offered the chance to disappear. That is, if the FAYZ is still up then. I knock on the door to Sam's houseboat. He opens it, and his smile fades immediately as he invites me in. "Sarah," he says. "I'm not going to kill you." I stare at him for a second. Then I notice Diana.

"You witch," I yell angrily. "I hate you!" She says nothing, just stares at the floor. "Well, then I'll just find Caine," I retort as I yank open the door again. "And while I'm at it, I'll betray you, see how you like it! I'll tell him exactly where you are and why you left!" I have crossed the line into hysteria now, and I run out of the boat and away from the lake. Diana is after me, but I have been running after prey for months before joining Sam. I was pulling away from her. I think I am home free until Brianna appears in front of me. I stop, surveying the situation. I can't hope to fight someone who could move at three hundred miles an hour.

"Let me go," I yell, "Let me go to Caine." She looks at me with disgust.

"No," she replies angrily. "You're going to betray Diana, just when I was deciding she wasn't such a female dog as she usually acts like." I reach into her mind for her emotions. She feels protective, trying to help her friend. Brianna and Diana are friends. I had never thought that could happen.

"Fine," I plead, "I won't expose her. I just need to die. You don't understand. I have to." She looks at me like I'm crazy, a bomb that might go off at any moment. I know I have to explain it to her to make her see and understand. I pour out the whole story to her, and she seems equal parts disgusted, equal parts sympathetic when I am finished. She lets out a long breath and shakes her head.

"Whatever. Go. But…are you sure you want to leave Daniel?" She asks. I nod.

"It's the only chance he'll have at being somewhat normal, even if he is in the FAYZ." I respond, and Brianna turns and walks away. Of course, walking for Brianna is the equivalent of sprinting for a normal person.

I reach Perdido Beach a few hours later. No one questions me, even though I use no mask of emotions. I walk straight up to the town hall, right down the hall, and knock on Caine's office door. An angry voice shouts from inside. "I swear, if this is Turk, I am going to throw you into a wall so hard-" The door flies open by itself, and Caine sees me. He sits there frozen for a second, so many questions in his head. I don't let him ask any of them. I voice my request first.

"Kill me," I say calmly, staring straight at him. Caine looks back at me for a second before smiling widely.

"Gladly." Then I am flying through the air, and I don't try to shield myself. I crash into the cinderblock wall and feel blood pouring from me, all around me, everywhere. It hurts to think, and I believe my skull is cracked. I feel myself fading, not just from consciousness, but from life. My last thought is that this is not the end. This is the beginning of a new life.


End file.
